


When We Were Very Young

by spaceowl



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Childhood, Forests, Gen, Magneto Being Creepy, Quicksilver Is A Dog, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceowl/pseuds/spaceowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She screwed on his tiny cufflinks, and tied his dapper little shoes, and told him about how she had seen Erik that one time talking with that newspaper boy who had always been nice to Charles, and she had watched as they walked away together down the long, long drive. The newspaper boy whose body had never been found. And she said to him, "Don't ever be alone with Erik."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Were Very Young

**Author's Note:**

> Co-Authored with archbishopmelker.

Marie was Charles' favourite maid. She organized his bacon in smiles despite the cook's protests that it disrupted the flavour. She read him bedtime stories that weren't educational.

She screwed on his tiny cufflinks, and tied his dapper little shoes, and told him about how she had seen Erik that one time talking with that newspaper boy who had always been nice to Charles, and she had watched as they walked away together down the long, long drive. The newspaper boy whose body had never been found. And she said to him, "Don't ever be alone with Erik."

***

It was a pleasantly hazy afternoon in late September, and Mother was entertaining guests yet again. Having chatted over cocktails in the lounge since eleven, they were now all outside in the garden playing croquet.

Charles liked croquet. Specifically, he enjoyed accidentally hitting the bright painted ball a long way the wrong way and watching it roll to the bottom of the garden. He liked walking slowly after it and hearing the silence grow.

The hedge where the garden ended was high and excruciatingly well-tended, and kept the ugly forest out of sight. The small blue ball had rolled right up against an aggressive wild root that was trying to make its way from the dark forest into the well-fed, clean-cut lawn. He was lining up the shot, bracing himself for the long walk uphill back to the raucous crowd. If he were being honest with himself, he entertained no small amount of quiet hope that some resulting blow to a stranger's head would end the party early. He felt like reading.

Just then a small white hand plucked up the ball, and Charles wound up swinging at air. The absence of impact sent him staggering. Catching himself, Charles spun to glare at the thief.

"Hello, Charles," said Erik, pushing his way out of the hedge. "Do you want to come and play in the woods with me?"

"I'm in the middle of a game," said Charles, feigning an apologetic tone.

"I think they'll be able to get by without you," said Erik. "Come play."

Charles looked back up the gentle slope to where Raven stood glaring at her too-large croquet mallet, his mother's drink idly resting on her little blonde (currently) head. Maybe she would want to come too. It's not like Mother would stop her.

Erik followed Charles' line of sight. " _Alone_ ," Erik stressed.

"Where would we go?" Charles asked uncertainly.

"I found a body down by the railroad tracks," Erik said, eyes shining.

"Ew," said Charles.

"Ew?" said Erik.

"Do you think we should report it to the police?" Charles asked.

"No," said Erik sharply, looking nervously around them, then lowering his voice. "I guess I shouldn't say _found_ a body so much as...made one."

"Oh," said Charles. "So, we _should_ report it to the police?"

"Double-no," said Erik.

"So, that means yes?" Charles asked hopefully.

"Only if your double-no's mean yes, too," said Erik.

Charles frowned. "They still don't."

Erik huffed.

The dull sun beat down on the perfect lawn, and dour Raven, and Mother's martini.

"After you show me, can we play G.I. Joes?" Charles asked.

"Fine, sure, whatever," Erik said, turning to make his way out from under the sun and back into the woods. With a final glance back at the mansion, Charles followed.

***

Charles could feel Erik's bright eyes observing his face intently as they rounded the corner, past the final line of trees before the cut line, and saw _it_. The colour drained from Charles' face. That was a body all right. A real live dead person.

Erik grinned.

A small sad sound broke the long silence that followed, and Charles thought for a moment it was coming from--it--but then he saw the small grey dog sitting beside the thing, staring up at them--at him--with terrified eyes.

"Quicksilver!" he said, rushing towards the dog. The poor thing looked unwell.

"I left him to stand guard," Erik said. "I trained him to do that." He idly kicked the dog.

"You shouldn't do that," Charles said, lifting a cautioning hand.

Erik looked at Charles darkly. "How do you think I trained him?"

"By treats? Or scolding him? Mother had show dogs for a while. They didn't seem quite this... twitchy. Or thin."

"The point is, he's trained," Erik snapped.

Charles shrugged. "I guess." He looked down at the quivering creature and saw that it was now otherwise distracted. "Is he...eating its leg? Oh. He is. Ew."

"Well, obviously he's hungry. Have you not been feeding him? Oh, Charles," said Erik sadly. "You said you would."

"I don't think I did," said Charles.

"Pretty sure you did," Erik said, reaching up to tap Charles' temple with two small fingers. "With your brain. Don't you remember?"

"No," said Charles honestly, but nevertheless he reached into his pocket for the sandwich that Mother had made Marie fix for him this morning. It was mostly caviar with some gold leaf thrown in 'to piss off Kurt', but Charles was pretty sure dogs could eat fish. Well, fish by-products. Charles tossed it to Quicksilver, and the dog feebly ripped into it.

"See?" said Erik. "I knew you'd feed him. You're such a good boy."

***

They poked at the corpse for a while, after Charles had come to terms with the reality of the situation. Erik had ditched his stick fairly quickly, saying he preferred a hands-on learning experience, but Charles continued to keep his distance from the dead man.

Suddenly, he felt a weak pressure against his ankle.

"Quicksilver is chewing on _my_ leg now, Erik," Charles observed.

"That's because I also trained him to attack on sight," Erik said proudly, distracted by poking at the eye of the corpse.

"Attack whom?"

"Bad guys."

"I'm not a bad guy," said Charles.

Erik rolled his eyes theatrically. "Why's he attacking you, then?" The dog, in truth, was not so much attacking as it was weakly gnawing. Charles carefully nudged it to chew on the abandoned croquet mallet instead. "Q.E.D.," Erik continued obliviously, "you must be a bad guy."

Charles turned back to the body. He'd made an attempt to move it off the tracks, but Erik had complained, saying he wanted to see what would happen. A train whistle sounded for the third time, closer, off to the west where the sun was sinking.

The eye of the corpse made a sickening sound. "Look," Erik grinned. "I'm Little Jack Horner."

Charles shuddered. "Who was this, Erik?"

"Some guy. He said he had candy. Another valuable life lesson, Charles. Sometimes they have candy," he said, wiping his hand on the dead man's shirt. "Sometimes they don't."

"Did he have candy?"

Erik laughed. "What would you do without me, Charles?"

"Probably sleep more soundly," Charles admitted.

"You don't want to sleep soundly, you fool," said Erik. "When you sleep, you're helpless. Defenseless. A babe in the woods."

"But I am a babe in the woods," Charles said in frustration, stepping back from the tracks. And Erik. A stray finger cracked under his shiny little shoes, and he saw the train's headlight round the corner.

Erik stood his ground, and winked. "That you are, babe. That you are."

Charles took another step back. Erik stayed, unnervingly close to the tracks. He didn't flinch as the train rushed past him. He didn't flinch as the blood splashed his pants. He just dragged his hands down his shins, smiling in a way that bared all of his teeth. "Cool," he said reverently. His little white hands came up covered in red.

After the train had gone by, Charles tried not to look at the--could one still categorize what remained as "a body"?

Erik turned his back on the mess and walked over to Charles. He was still smiling. "You know this makes you accessory after the fact, right?" He wiped his hand on Charles' expensive little jacket. "That means if you tell anyone, you'll go to prison."

Charles looked down at his ruined lapel. "For how long?"

" _Forever_ ," Erik said. He paused dramatically, and his face grew serious. "You wouldn't do well in prison, Charles. You're too...cute. They'd like you too much. Believe me, Charles..." Erik glanced at what remained of the body. "...you don't want to be alone with grown-ups who like you too much."

Charles cringed. Although, to look on the bright side (and wasn't that always best), that surely meant he was perfectly safe with Mother.

Accessory after the fact, though. It sounded like Erik had said these words before.

"How do you know for certain?" Charles asked. "Accessories after the--how do you know what that is?"

Erik shrugged. "Library," he said.

"Whose library?"

"Some guy's. That Grey's Anatomy is a real page turner. Did you know that a hard enough blow to the philtrum can cause immediate brain damage, resulting in death?" Erik tapped a bloody finger to Charles' upper lip. "The more you know."

Charles made every effort to smile back at his friend. "All right, Erik. We looked at the body. Can we go play G.I. Joes now?"

Erik scowled. "Of course not. We have responsibilities, Charles. We can't just abandon...this. Evidence, you know. Leads to suspicion. Leads to incarceration. You don't want us to go to jail, do you, Charles?" He patted Charles' cheek. Charles felt the now-cold blood stick to his skin as Erik's fingers brushed his jawline.

Charles shook his head slowly. "No...I guess not."

"Such a good boy," said Erik. "Now go get a shovel."

***

Marie tsked as she unscrewed his one remaining cufflink, and sighed as she untied his dirty little shoes, but then she smiled and said, "Looks like you had fun today."

Charles nodded solemnly.

Then she ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead and went to fetch him an uninstructive bedtime story.

Sometimes Charles wonders whatever became of Marie.


End file.
